


The Kitchen or the Porch

by viciouswishes



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-17
Updated: 2005-01-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 20:44:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13039062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viciouswishes/pseuds/viciouswishes
Summary: Setting: Pre-"Killer In Me."Request: Faith, Willow, and repair.





	The Kitchen or the Porch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [queenzulu (zulu)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zulu/gifts).



"So who's this Faith?" Kennedy asks as she pops another Milk Dud into her mouth. "She's like the other Slayer, right?"

Willow nods her head. She can't help but notice her girlfriend's tongue ring every time they're eating. Kind of gross when she thinks about all the things that could potentially become stuck under there. But kind of hot when she images all the things Kennedy could do to her with it. She takes a deep breath. "Faith's been in prison, but Wesley, her and Buffy's former Watcher, broke her out."

"That's cool." Kennedy's lukewarm even after Buffy's ‘Faith is a killer, beware' speech.

Willow's afraid that her new lover doesn't understand the consequences of power. That having the power to kill a man – or destroy the world, in her case – doesn't mean that there are no longer laws or lines.

Faith stalks through the kitchen. She throws her leather jacket over her shoulder, opening the back door to the Summers' home. "Just going out for a smoke," she announces.

"Gotta catch up on the newbie gossip. Another girl arrived together, and Giles wants me to show her the ropes." Kennedy kisses Willow's cheek as she leaves for the living room.

Sighing, Willow takes the moment for fresh air. Well, she knows the air's not really going to be fresh, not if Faith's out there smoking; and with her luck, Spike's probably puffing away as well.

"Hey." Faith looks up as Willow joins her on the porch. "Want one?" She holds up the pack of cigarettes."

"No. Big no." Willow shakes her head. She's seen too many diagrams of cancer-ridden lungs for a lifetime; her mother's idea of scaring her from them, and well, it worked. She wonders if offering someone a cigarette is some sort of prison custom. Prison, the place where she should be.

Faith stuffs the pack back into the pocket of her jacket. "So how's the dyke thing working out for you?"

"What?" Shock colors Willow's face for a moment, before she remembers just who she's talking to. "Fine." She clams up like she used to do in high school, and always like she does around Faith.

"Doesn't understand, does she?" Faith takes a long drag. "Too young and too cocky. Reminds me of myself."

Those are the last words that Willow wants to hear. "She's just confident and enthusiastic." She shifts and relaxes against the wooden steps.

"That's what they call it these days."

They sit in silence for a while, and Willow can't help but wonder why she feels more relaxed here than in the company of Kennedy.


End file.
